


underneath it all

by Nagiru



Category: Bleach
Genre: (better safe than sorry), It could likely be Teen rated actually, Kisuke has serious guilt-issues, Kisuke is an old man but he acts like an angsty teenager, M/M, Sequel (of sorts) to Meet Me On the Battlefield, Urahara's POV, Winter War, finally the happy-ish ending I promised, likely Underage?, some cameo of Yoruichi and Isshin too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 16:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16601621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagiru/pseuds/Nagiru
Summary: There is a war brewing, and it is all Kisuke's fault. And he regrets it, but it is also his choice, and he's learned to live with it.Unfortunately, he also has to bring some other people into it with him.[Urahara Kisuke's POV of Meet me on the battefield]





	underneath it all

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. So, there was a reader (Tiria_the_Normal_Psychopath) who asked if there was any chance I'd write Urahara's POV of "Meet me" in a comment, and I realized I had interest in it. But then, life happened, and I got sidetracked, and only just got back to it... but, hey, it's finished, at least?
> 
> So, if "Meet me" is "the one where everything from canon still happens, but Ichigo has a teenager crush to add to it", "underneath it all" is "the one where Kisuke is a walking bundle of angst and tries to push away those he loves because of it". I guess I did the whole teenager-package, after all!
> 
> (btw, writing Kisuke is so goddamn _hard_ , for fuck's sake!)
> 
> Ah, well, seeing how in "Meet me" the Ending was kinda Open and Ambiguous, because we didn't know what the hell was happening _with Kisuke_ , I'd like to say this time we could consider it a Happy Ending? Because now we know both Ichigo's and Kisuke's side of things! But I might be overstretching it, too.
> 
> Anyway. **Disclaimer** , as always, is: I don't own Bleach or the characters, they are all Kubo's. I just own this story!

Kisuke shouldn’t.

So, he took the opportunity and went through with it anyway, because _when not?_

And for the first time in his life, he didn’t regret it for a second.

**. . .**

Kisuke had been _aware_ of the eldest Kurosaki child since his birth, since his young _reiatsu_ had washed over Karakura — _too_ young, wild, untrained. Kisuke had been aware, but he’d never actually _seen_ the boy until Masaki’s death, when he stopped by to put a better seal in place on the children, to make sure he wouldn’t die before his time.

( _to make sure he wouldn’t lose anyone else_ , he thought somewhat guiltily. _At least while he could keep his loved ones._ )

But then, Kuchi Rukia was sent to patrol Karakura, and the boy was old enough.

( _he’d never be old enough_ )

Releasing Kurosaki-san’s _reiatsu_ was easy, even from this distance — much easier than keeping it sealed, anyway —, and it worked instantly: as soon as the golden _reiatsu_ was free, it flared like a flame, attracting every goddamn Hollow in the area.

Every one of the _several_ , but Kisuke only needed one; he only needed a trap, after all, not the girl _dead_. The Kuchiki girl _could not_ die yet.

( _their Kurosaki hero could not die. **At all**._)

Then, the Hollows were dealt with, and Kuchiki was lying on his store, powerless and _ready_.

( _and Kurosaki-san had burned so **bright** , gold reiatsu and righteous anger, and Kisuke **ached**_ )

Right, Kuchiki. He should get to work.

**.**

The perfect opportunity to present himself to Kurosaki-san came quite accidentally, however it fit him like a glove. Not one of his plans was as good as it happened, in the end.

Getting Kurosaki-san to keep the Mod Soul was a terrific side effect he’d not dared to hope for, either, yet there he was.

… And _there he was_. The boy… the _look_ of the boy…

Kisuke refused to feel guilty now, not after so many terrible choices, not when he _knew_ there was a war coming he could not avoid. Still, his chest felt tight when he looked at the boy — because Kurosaki-san was _just a boy_.

Just a boy, with so much weight on his shoulders, and so much more he didn’t even know about.

… Kisuke refused to feel guilty.

( _yet, he felt anyway, hidden behind his hat, fan and smirks. Guilty for everything he’d done to this boy._ )

( _for everything he’d still do._ )

**.**

Kurosaki-san grew in leaps and bounds, leaving a line of dead Hollows behind — and it was amazing to watch, besides being exactly what Kisuke had planned for him. It was hands-on experience, and Kurosaki-san clearly grew _exponentially_ from it, and it was _great_. He was growing quickly and powerful, and he was becoming so much _closer_ to what Kisuke needed him to be…

But then the Quincy boy came around, bringing with him a Menos, and Kisuke feared it would be too much, much too soon. Kurosaki-san was good, but he _was_ still just a beginner, and… And it… well. Kurosaki-san managed it.

Except — _he managed it_.

Something like that was bound to send all kinds of signals to Soul Society, and Kisuke _knew_ it. Knew his time ran shorter by the day, by the _second_ , knew that, soon (much too soon), his plans would have to be advanced…

Yet, when he finally felt a captain _reiatsu_ in Karakura, he still felt dread, because it was _too soon_.

( _it would **always** be too soon. Years… **centuries** too soon._)

Kurosaki-san wasn’t _ready_. He wasn’t…

But he’d need to be, Kisuke knew. Because he’d either _be ready_ , or he’d die. And Kisuke simply _refused_ to let the boy die.

(he refused to think too much about it)

Kurosaki-san would be ready. He wouldn’t die, not here, not now. Not from a damned _stab to the heart_. He wouldn’t die to _Kuchiki Byakuya_.

Kurosaki-san would _survive_ , and be that much stronger for it.

Kisuke just knew it.

**.**

The view of Kurosaki, lying motionless and cold on his floor, would haunt Kisuke forever, together with all his _others_ past mistakes. Still, this one felt like _more_ , somehow. Possibly because he knew that, were Kurosaki to die, it _would_ be his fault. It would be _Kisuke’s_ fault for such a young, bright kid to die without ever really living.

It felt… daunting. It felt like breathing ice, and failing Yoruichi, and creating the Hogyoku, all over again.

Still, Kisuke had never been one to stop just because of his mistakes, so he _forced_ Kurosaki to wake up. Forced Kurosaki to _face him_.

Forced Kurosaki to die.

 _“You’ll either get your powers back,”_ he’d said, smiling behind the fan, because not even the fan was enough to hide him. Because he knew that, if he allowed himself to _feel_ , it wouldn’t _stop_. _“Or you’ll die.”_

And Kurosaki had nearly died.

( _but he hadn’t_ )

Kurosaki had nearly died, before any of his plans really coming to a head, and if there was anything Kisuke had learned from watching Kurosaki these past few days, it was that the boy would _not_ sit idly while his friends died. Kurosaki would _never_ sit by and let Kuchiki-san die.

And somehow, Kisuke was _okay_ with that. Even though having Kuchiki die would make it all so much _easier_ … He’d be okay with Kurosaki going to rescue her.

As long as he _lived_ to do so.

**.**

After Kurosaki was finally back, back in the living, _breathing_ world, his curious, unique mix of human, Shinigami and Hollow (with just a pinch of _something more_ , Kisuke knew) right there in front of him, Kisuke felt it was time for training.

Which was how Kisuke realized he had a problem. Well. _Another_ problem.

A… teenager shaped problem.

Kisuke knew Kurosaki was young, that much was very obvious, but he’d forgotten Kurosaki was a _teen_ , in human terms, not a child. A teenager, full of hormones and sex drive.

Kisuke really should have seen it coming, but then, Kisuke had never _really_ been a teenager, had he? What were hormones but a cocktail of chemicals?

Apparently, they were hard-ons in the middle of a fight, shivers when Kurosaki should be _pushing_ , blushes that did not come from physical exertion.

It was so novel. It was stupid. It was…

(Kisuke resolutely did not think about it. Did not think about how he grappled the boy to the ground when he could easily disarm him at arm’s length, telling himself it was for the experience and not because he _wanted_ to. Because he wanted to feel Kurosaki under him, hot and living; the erection pressing firmly against his thigh. Because he wanted to _touch_ …)

It as stupid. Kurosaki should know better, really. Kisuke was a _terrible_ choice. A terrible _man_ , even.

But then, he _was_ a teenager, and Kisuke supposed he must get off to the high of adrenaline, if he jumped into battles so recklessly like that.

(Kisuke refused to wonder too much on his own part in _that_. Did he program Kurosaki for that, too?)

What mattered was that it was stupid, but it was also _normal_. Teenage, _human_ normal.

( _yet_ , Kisuke thought, _I am neither a teenager nor human, and adrenaline has never been like that for me._ )

(he chose not to pursue that thought)

**.**

The day of sending Kurosaki to his own possible death came too soon, but Kisuke knew it was either now or never. Either Kurosaki managed to prove his strength and prepared himself to the oncoming war, or Kurosaki would fail, and they’d be all doomed.

( _but at least_ , the traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered, _Kuchiki Rukia and the Hogyoku will be gone._ )

(and, even deeper down, _and Ichigo will never know what you’ve done. Never know about war, never know the true despair you have planned for him. Ichigo will never **hate you**._)

**.**

After centuries in the human world, Kisuke was experienced in getting news from Soul Society, just as if he’d still lived there, a ghost amongst their several souls, and it was easy to follow the pieces of information on Kurosaki’s fights. Easy to follow Kurosaki’s path of destruction and determination.

Easy to follow his blazing path of _hope_.

… And it was heartbreakingly easy to hear of Kurosaki’s defeat, of the way Kuchiki Rukia lived, but so did Aizen, skipping town with his merry band of traitors.

Hauntingly easy to _see_ how it affected Kurosaki, when he came back to Kisuke, when Kisuke went to get Kurosaki and his friends, and saw first-hand the sheer despair, the grim emptiness on their face. The shaky resolve in _Kurosaki’s_ eyes.

… it was disturbingly painful to see Kurosaki hurt.

( _why am I doing this,_ he questioned himself later, as he bowed deeply, apologies heavy on his tongue. _I never planned this…_

(And he hadn’t. He hadn’t planned to ask for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve. He’d made up his mind, long ago, that he would regret much too many things, but he’d do them either way. He’d made up his mind, when he’d held his old comrades and watched them die, and all he could do was _taint them_ , that he’d keep fighting, even if it meant his life.

(Yet, looking at Kurosaki’s face, at his broken shards of resolve, all he could think was, _this is on me_. And he’d never choose anything different, he _couldn’t_ , but still asked forgiveness. Not for himself, but for Ichigo himself, but to try and force some _anger_ on Ichigo’s face, if nothing else.

(… it was disturbingly relieving, how it worked.)

**.**

Kurosaki Ichigo was a man of many wonders, Kisuke had come to realize.

When Kisuke begged for a pardon he’d never hoped to receive, he hadn’t expected to hear the words, _“so train me, getaboshi”_.

Yet they did. Followed by several expletives, and much anger, and so much more willingness to _let it go_ than Kisuke had ever expected that he hadn’t been able to refute him, even when he _knew_ he shouldn’t keep training Kurosaki. Not anymore. Not now.

Yet. As Kisuke once said, he was full of bad choices and terrible doings. What was one more to the pile?

_(and if it had anything to do with the lingering looks he received from Ichigo, the warm touches that would remain against his skin just a bit too long, then Kisuke refused to think about it._

_He also refused to think on how Ichigo once stopped calling him Urahara **at all** , remaining firm on his stupid nickname even when they were alone. Even when they were with friends that kept chiding Ichigo out for it._

_But, more than anything, he refused to think about Ichigo’s hitching breath, Ichigo’s flustered glances, Ichigo’s flaming cheeks, Ichigo’s firm warmth underneath him, gasping and straining to remain still even as Ichigo’s cock pressed hard against Kisuke’s thigh. He refused to think on how his own hands strayed too low, strayed too far, remained **too much**._

_Kisuke refused to think about Ichigo’s voice breaking, and more than anything, he refused to think that he might **want**.)_

**.**

So he did what he did best. When things started becoming too much, he ran. And things were always too much, with Kurosaki Ichigo.

( _too much temptation, too much warmth, too much hope, too much guilt, too much…_ )

Kisuke had done too many bad choices, already. He couldn’t remain on _doing them_.

He’d already accepted to train Kurosaki, but he also had the perfect excuse; Kisuke was just a Shinigami, but Ichigo — Kurosaki was so much _more_. And their best match was just around the corner, and they’d finally showed some interest.

So, Kisuke smiled, and hid behind his fan, and told Kurosaki nothing about how he just _couldn’t stand him anymore_ , but instead told him he wasn’t going to train him anymore, because he was too busy.

( _yeah,_ he heard that same traitorous voice taunt him, _pining_ )

He spilled lies, and grinned as if everything was alright, and just hoped the Vizards would take Kurosaki in _soon_ , because it was too much too soon and everything was going to end sooner than he’d wanted. Kisuke waved Kurosaki away, and hoped that he’d find his way into the Vizard’s pack, that he’d find another family to care for him, and another family to care for, and that he’d grow out of Kisuke. That he’d finally forget him.

(and, more importantly, he hoped _he_ would forget _Ichigo_ )

He laughed at Kurosaki’s questions, pulled at his hat, and hid, even when his own body ran hotter at the idea of having the other so close by yet again, and resolutely thought _no_ , _never again_.

And then Ichigo… Kurosaki was gone, and Kisuke could relax at last, but Yoruichi was there, and her grumble was just a breath too sharp, just loud enough for him to hear the _coward_ underneath it, but. Well. Kisuke never pretended to be brave, did he?

**.**

When things finally came to a head, Kisuke was surprised to realize he was calm.

Kurosaki’s princess was taken hostage, and Kurosaki was, predictably, going after her, and Kisuke knew all about it. He knew all about Kurosaki’s strength, all about Kurosaki’s fears, all about Kurosaki’s failings.

He knew Kurosaki was going to Hueco Mundo, and he even opened the way to him and his friends, and, more importantly, he knew they’d lose.

And he was _okay_ with it. Because this was not the time for Kurosaki to win. Not yet.

And Kisuke refused to think Kurosaki might die. He was much too stubborn for _that,_ he’d shown Kisuke already.

So, for once, Kisuke did not worry himself to the ground after Kurosaki was gone. Instead, he planned, and he tinkered, and he made sure the Kurosaki family was safe. Made sure Karakura was safe.

While the children fought his war in another world, Kisuke protected their home, and _planned on_.

Aizen should lose at least part of his pet hounds this time, even if Kisuke knew Aizen himself would walk out alive. So, Kisuke needed to think about what they’d do about Aizen.

Once again, Kisuke knew, it would come down to Kurosaki Ichigo, their prized warrior, their only hero, their human-born savior. Kurosaki Ichigo, their symbol of hope, and their martyr.

(Kisuke laughed mirthlessly, staring at his own hands — some stains were invisible, yet they managed to be so much worse than any other scar he’d ever carry, Kisuke was surprised he wasn’t bleeding black yet.)

Perhaps Kurosaki had gone out hoping to finally end this fight, but Kisuke knew. Knew it was doomed from the very beginning.

After all, this war had had an end from the moment Kurosaki Ichigo was born into this world. The moment Kurosaki Ichigo opened his eyes, screaming and leaking _reiatsu_ everywhere, Kisuke and Isshin knew exactly how this all would end.

And Kisuke might regret many things, but he’d never regret anything more than that.

**.**

Kisuke knew the time had come before Isshin had come to him. He couldn’t feel Kurosaki… _Ichigo’s_ _reiatsu_ anymore, but he could _feel_ Ichigo, like a tooth ache.

So he didn’t hesitate.

For the first time in his life, Kisuke didn’t think of his self-preservation first, but of being there for Ichigo.

Being there, just because Ichigo would need _someone_ there with him, and Kisuke wanted to be that person.

He wanted to be the person who’d catch Ichigo, when he burned so hot he’d turn himself into ashes. He wanted to be the person there when Ichigo finally gave out. He wanted to be the person _protecting_ Ichigo, when he couldn’t protect himself anymore.

… He wanted to be there _with_ Ichigo, even if he lost his life doing so.

**. . .**

And then Ichigo woke up, breathless and hurt, and Kisuke thought,

_I shouldn’t be here, after all_

But he was, and he was wearing a _gigai_ , and he’d made this choice long ago, anyway. He’d made this choice, and he’d decided _he would not regret it_.

“I’m alive,” he heard Ichigo murmur, and Kisuke broke a little inside hearing the hurt mixed with the relief, so Kisuke moved closer, staring at Ichigo before Ichigo could make himself mad with grief.

“Hello,” he got out — and then Ichigo’s hand was closing around his wrist, and he looked at Ichigo’s face and thought of despair and hope mingled together, of afternoons expended training, of a burning in his chest, and he _let go_.

The mouth against his wasn’t completely unexpected, but the fervor behind it still took Kisuke slightly by surprise.

He’d thought… But then, when did Ichigo _not_ surprise him?

**. . .**

Kisuke had many regrets.

He refused to let this be another one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, right, again, title inspired by a song; this time, "Savages", by Marina and the Diamonds (because I've listened to it twice today, and, why the hell not?). I kinda wanted to name it "Are you killing for yourself, or killing for your savior?" (also part of the song), but didn't think it worked as a title. Eh.
> 
> So! Comments? Please? Let me know what you think of it!  
> Thanks for reading, for anyone reading!


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